Making the most of it
by Lorelei Rhiannon
Summary: Beckett gets what he deserves, and then some. Kinda the opposite of an insert fic. R&R, please! Beckett/OFC. Hope you like.
1. Chapter 1

The waves crashed over him as he lay on a piece of floating wood. The sun shone in his eyes and he blinked. "I'm alive." he whispered gratefully to himself. Raising up his head he looked around for the ship that had been his home. The Endeavour was nowhere to be seen. Well, relatively anyways. The piece of driftwood he held onto was one of the few remaining pieces of said ship left afloat.

The waves broke again and a menacing ship pulled along side him. Trying to look up at it to see it's colours, he was again blinded by the sun. "Bring 'im up!" shouted a man's voice. "Nice 'an easy now, Cap'n wants him unharmed." The raspy voice was unfamiliar.

Not long afterward there was a crushing pain as the survivor was thrown headlong, and headfirst into the brig of his rescuing ship. "What's going on?" he asked groggily. The day seemed like a total blur to him.

"Jus' wait 'til the Cap'n gets 'ere. He'll explain ev'rything." the tall man with the raspy voice replied. And with that, he turned on his heel and left the confused, soggy survivor in the brig.

The sun was setting and voices were heard topside. "Really now?" asked an all too familiar voice. A second voice, the raspy one from before spoke, saying "He's in the brig." The familiar voice, apparently the captain of this vessel, spoke a second time. "Bring him to be.. and summon Calypso. I have an idea."

A few moments later, the still dripping survivor was dragged out his his cell and brought to the captain's cabin. There was a large mahogany and bronze pipe organ in one corner of the were lanterns lit here and there. Though the layout of the ship was vaguely familiar to him, though he couldn't remember any ship that looked like this.

The captain was seated at the piano, picking at the keys. "Sir, here he is." said a skinny man. The captain raised a hand and beckoned his crewman out. "He was so good at it. I guess I'll have the remainder of eternity to perfect my own style." he said. He stood. With a deep sigh he turned around. "Welcome to the Flying Dutchman......., Lord Beckett."

"Turner?" asked Beckett. "But how?" he was even more confused then before he had been brought in here. He was on the Dutchman? Nonsense, this was a grand ship, not the derelict thing crewed by men who were half fish. "Where's Jones?" he asked defiantly. He tried to hide his fear the best way he knew how, with arrogance.

"Gone." replied Turner. "I stabbed his heart, thanks to Jack, and became the new Captain of the Dutchman." He was smug about it just a little. He liked this new side of himself. Beckett looked around.

"I've been aboard the Dutchman and this was not how it looked." He crossed his arms. His face was smooth with smugness.

"Jones perverted his mission." came a female voice from behind. "You summoned me... Captain Turner?" The ebony skinned goddess, in her humanish form sauntered in past Beckett. "What is it dat you want of me?"

William Turner smiled. "I propose to you a deal of sorts. Punishment for our ....." he coughed. "friend." He stepped forward, his shirt coming open a hair to reveal the ugly red scar that was over the place where his own heart used to be. Beckett winced, knowing that the man before him quite literally was.. heartless.

"Go on." Calypso said. The interest in her voice becoming thicker.

"Well." Will started out. "I was wondering. How quickly does time go by in the Locker?" Calypso's eyebrow raised.

"Time passes naught in the locker, it feels like an eternity but in fact eternity lasts not long enough.. " She paused. "Why?"

Still smiling Will asked "And how does a person get to the Locker without the Kracken or going to World's End?"

Calypso seemed to be catching his drift. She grinned widely showing off her mouthful of black teeth. "Dere is a way, but 'tis difficult to do. To take a living man to da Locker is not an easy ting to do. But, tis possible."

"Tell me how." Will said anxiously. Calypso looked at Beckett questioningly. "Mr Turner!" Will called out. The man with the raspy voice re-entered the cabin. "Take Beckett back to the brig whilst I talk with the Lady."

Bootstrap nodded. "Aye, sir." he said. Taking hold of Beckett's arm, he dragged him out of the room. "This way." he said, not bothering to even look at the little man he had by the arm.

"You're Turner senior then?" Beckett asked. The man nodded but said nothing. "He looks like his mother then." This time the older man turned his head. Beckett continued. "Ahh, but he has his father's eyes I see." Bootstrap sighed. In silence, Beckett was pushed back into his cell and the doors locked. There he remained for over three hours.

When at last someone came for him he was surprised to see that it was the captain himself. "Let's go, Beckett." he said as he unlocked the rusting iron door. "Now."

Unshackled and free to do as he chose, Becket followed nonetheless. They were in the middle of the sea with no land in sight. If he jumped, he'd be dead by the next afternoon from either dehydration or by sharks, neither of which sounded very appealing to him. Upon reaching the upper deck, Beckett noticed that all the crew looked like men. He said nothing as most of them had pistols and large knives in the their hands.

"Calypso. If you would, my friend." Will said to the goddess. with a nod, Calypso walked to the very tip of the ship and raised her hands. The clouds swirled overhead and the winds picked up to hurricaine force. The Dutchman, however, never faltered ont he seas, floating with the waves as if it were simply high tide. Closing her eyes, the goddess started to speak in her ancient, unknown language. Beckett watched in amazed horror as the water rose form the sea and formed a sort of tunnel before them. "Full canvas!" Will shouted to this crew and the sails were dropped.

As the Dutchman sailed into this chasm, Beckett's stomach took a turn. A feeling of utter dread swept over him as he realized he was being taken to his doom. He tried to take a step backward but Turner was there to hold him in place. So, he tried to close his eyes, but the very fact that he was seeing something wholly magical refused to let his eyes close. He stared at the rolling waves above and below him. The spray hit his face. The salty water stung his eyes and face but still he watched, unable to turn away. His breathing had increased as did his heartbeat. The tunnel seemed to go on forever. But just when He thought to ask if it was going to end, there was a light. 'this is it then.' he thought, 'the literal light at the end of the tunnel'. He held his breath as they passed through the other side of the tunnel. Turner took Beckett by his face with one hand. "For every person you took from me and mine.... Elizabeth, her father, even Norrington.. A hundred years for each soul you stole from my life." He then pointed. Becket turned to see what was being pointed at.

He was surprised to see what looked like land. "Here's your stop lad." Turner senior said with a chuckle. "I'm sure you can make it to shore from here." Bootstrap turned to his son who nodded. "Man overboard!" he shouted as he took Beckett by the collar of his coat and the waistband of his pants and tossed him over the side of the ship.

The water was a lot colder than he'd remembered it to be. He was under the surface and struggling to break through. When he did he saw the rear of the Dutchman passing back into the tunnel. Seeing no other alternative, he swam to he sandy beach not half a meter away. He crawled out of the water, exhausted but alive... Then Will Turner's words reverberated in his head. "A hundred years for every soul.. My god, how many could that be?"; Laying on his back, Beckett stared up at the sun. With it being this hot, he'd be dry in minutes. As the minutes ticked however, Beckett fell asleep.

* * *

It was dark when he awoke. He jumped to his feet with a start, forgetting for a moment where he was or what had happened. As his mind caught up to his body, though, he recalled the events that brought him here. "Damn." he said, kicking a little dirt with his boot toe. "I wonder if there's fresh water. He doesn't want me dead, just punished." He spoke aloud, as if there was someone that could hear him. "Right?" he asked, looking up at the moon, which seemed bigger here in Davy... no... Will Turner's Locker.. Beckett laughed. "Not much of a ring to it." he said. He walked inland a little. The moon was bright enough to allow him to see for a few hundred miles in every direction. Nothing but sand to his north, and west. The sea to his south and a small spit of trees to his east. "East it is then." he said with a smile on his face. Upon nearing the trees he realized that they bore coconuts. "Excellent!" he exclaimed. He could really get used to this. He took a few downed branches and fixed himself a makeshift bed. If this was how Turner expected to punish him it was a punishment he'd likely accept.

The next few weeks went by like this: wake up, have a coconut and walk the beach.. come back in for a coconut for lunch and work on a little hut from fallen branches and bits of shipwreck he'd found on his walks. Finally he'd have another coconut for supper and lie down do sleep as the sun set... It wasn't so bad really, until the hut was finished and the bits of wreckage started to dwindle. Then the boredom set in, and with it the realization that this was closer to hell then heaven. He started to loathe the taste of coconut and hated having only it to eat. He tried to fish but there were none. So he accepted the coconut and, with a sigh he sat on the beach and resigned himself to however many hundreds of years he would have to do this. On one of the last remaining strips of driftwood, he started marking off days.. Who knew how long he'd be there, but to him, it would at least give him something to look forward to each day.

A/N reviews anyone?? what do you think of my plot... I bet you can all tell where this is headed.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a lovely day. Amy and Ellie were out sailing off the coast of Haiti. The Caribbean was such a lovely place. A fact that Amy stated often and Ellie was coming to hate. "You know what?" Amy asked as she came topside.

"If you tell us what a lovely day it is, I'm going to toss you overboard." Ellie said from her lounge chair across the deck. Amy's brother Marcus laughed from across the way. He was manning the controls of their mini-yacht. Amy only gave them both the finger.

"I was going to say that I think we should set off a few of our fireworks tonight. It's certainly clear enough. Not a cloud in the sky." She gestured to the bluest sky the world seemed to have seen.

"Now, you see. She's jinxed us. My own sister." Marc said lightheartedly form the wheel. "It's bad luck to have a woman on board." he said to Ellie. "It's old legend."

Ellie sat up and pushed her wide-brimmed hat up past her hairline. Gesturing to her breasts she asked "And what exactly am I then?" Marc laughed. "You know Marc, you and your stupid legends. I could really have gone a day without you spouting off about some kind of legend. First it was sunken pirate ships and Davy Jones and all that idiocy. Then it was that ungodly history book you have tucked in your room."

Amy laughed and nodded "A History of the British Navy A.D. 1000 to 2000. A millennium of sailing." Her tone deepened to make her sound like a stuffy History professor. Then, in her normal voice she added sarcastically "How exciting." Ellie laughed.

Marcus came out of the wheelhouse and scowled at the two women. Both were younger than him. Ellie being twenty-five years old and his little sister being only twenty-one. "I agreed to bring you two along on my vacation because you begged me and promised you'd behave yourselves." He crossed his arms. "And besides, how can you argue with historic fact. I mean, look. That's the very spot where the HMS Endeavour sank. The remains are still at the bottom, just waiting to be recovered."

"And I bet you'd love to be the one to do that too, eh, Marc?" asked Ellie. She walked over to the Igloo cooler and popped the lid opened. After retrieving a Pepsi form it and shutting the lid she returned to her seat. "Mr. I can swim but not if there's sharks around. _Besides_, this my yacht, remember?"

"Oooooh, " laughed Amy. "Ouch, on that one big brother. But she has a point. How are you going to ever make it onto a dive team if you can't get over your fear a sharks?"

Marc's jaw dropped open. "Lots of guys dive and they're afraid of sharks... not that I'm really that afraid." He scuffed his tennis shoes on the deck. "It's just that they have all those teeth."

Amy let out a guffaw. "This all stems from the bite you got at the beach back in 1996, doesn't it?!" Ellie looked confused. Amy waved her hand at her friend and laughed. "It wasn't even after him, the little thing was after the fish nest he was standing in front of." She laughed harder and clutched her stomach.

"It's NOT funny.. Amelia!" he shouted, using her full first name. Amy shot to an upright position and glared at her older brother. "You'd think differently if it had been you."

The pair continued to argue and Ellie, sensing that this wasn't going to dissipate in a timely fashion, walked to the front of the yacht to watch the sea. It calmed her. Some got sick but Ellie loved to watch the waves roll past the ship. As she leaned over the rail of the boat she spotted a cloud in the sky. "so much for Amy's lovely day." she murmured. The cloud floated along on the breeze, bringing with it a few of its friends. "Oh, great." she groused. "its going to rain." She turned to her friends who were still bickering. "Uh, guys?" she asked.

Amy and Marc stopped talking and turned in her direction. "What?!" they asked in unison. Ellie pointed to the clouds Marcus swore aloud and turned on his heel and went back into the wheelhouse to adjust the course.

Amy walked over to Ellie. "You're not scared are you?" she shivered as a wash of cool air came up the side of the ship, bringing with it a spray of seawater.

"No." Ellie said. "Its weird." she added. "I can't put my finger on it, but this is no ordinary storm."

"You mean it could be a hurricane?" Amy asked. "Weird like that, 'cause I could handle a hurricane if I had to. I don't like the other weird." She sighed. "The sort of weird that seems to be following you this summer." Amy swallowed hard as the clouds grew darker and got closer. "Marc?" she called out to her brother, but he never heard her due to the ear splitting thunderclap that shot through he air at that exact moment, causing both Amy and Ellie to scream and drop to their bellies on the deck.

* * *

"Day two hundred and thirty." Beckett said as he scratched another line in his little "calendar". He sighed. How much longer could this go on? He looked out on the southern horizon, to where the Dutchman had dropped him all those years ago. He sighed again. "Bother." he muttered. It had been a little over two hundred years and there didn't look to be any reprieve to his punushment. This really was going to last an eternity. However, there were a few things that had changed. Cutler Beckett had been slightly tempered over the past couple of centuries. He took things in stride, at least the things that happened to him here in the Locker.

Staring out at the empty sea and the clear sky he wondered suddenly what the real world was like these days. How much would have been accomplished? What new inventions would there be? A sudden pang of grief washed over him as he realized that everything he knew, everyone he loved and knew were gone. "They're dead by now." he said sadly. His old mother. What had she thought of him in her last days? And there were his sisters. Had they married? Had they become mothers and grandmothers in their own time? Sitting down on the soft warm sand, Cutler Beckett drew up his knees and wept.... for everything he missed.. "I'm a fool." he said.

"That you are." came a voice suddenly from behind. Jumping up he saw William Turner, Captain of the Flying Dutchman standing in the sand behind him. Next to him was a waiflike figure, a woman. "You remember Elizabeth don't you?" he asked. Beckett nodded.

"I've tallied up the years and I've decided that your punishment here is over." Elizabeth said. "You'll be returning to the real world."

Beckett turned and rose to his feet. "Thank god." he whispered. He would be leaving this horrible place. He ventured a question. "How did you... uhm, Elizabeth?"

"How did I die?" she asked outright. Beckett nodded. "I fell from the roof of my house about twenty years after we last saw one another. My son, mine and Will's son, took me to the sea and as I told him to, he put my broken body adrift in a dingy. will picked me up not half an hour later and I became a part of his crew. Now Will and I are together forever." Her face was split by a wide satisfied grin.

"How lovely for you." Beckett said, the usual acidic tone creeping back into his voice. What was it about this woman that made him feel so hateful? Or was it simply women in general? "When will I be returning?" he asked, changing the subject deftly.

Will looked to the sky. "As soon as Calypso opens the portal again." His face split by a wide grin. "Which I'd say is about .... now." And as soon as the word left his lips, the winds started to blow. The first breeze Beckett had felt in over two hundred years. It was wonderful to him, but it didn't die down. It came is swifter gusts and his little palm hut was blown down the beach and obliterated. His hat, which he had kept very good care of over the years, was also blown away. Beckett swore and reached up to take hold of his wig but that too was ripped rather harshly from his head by the ever strengthening wind. His real hair blowing around in his face and the sand that had started to swirl about were making sight almost impossible. "Have fun, Beckett. By the end of a week you'll be begging for death." Will shouted above the sound of the wind. "And I'll be waiting for you."

The forms of William and Elizabeth Turner disappeared in the blur of sand and sea water that was blowing around Cutler Beckett like a tornado. There really was only one thing Beckett could do. He brought his hands up and covered his face. 'please just let it be over soon' he begged with his thoughts.

* * *

"Hurricane!" Marc screamed from the wheelhouse. "Girls get below decks."

"Like hell!" Amy screamed back at her brother. "Just 'cause you're older doesn't make you my king." The sound of the wind howling around the yacht was eerie. Ellie likened it to eh wail of a Banshee. She felt like someone was going to die today.

The sky had gone black and the wind had come from out of nowhere. How did this always happen to her?" she wondered. "Why me?" she asked Amy as they descended the steps to the living quarters by force as Marcus made them go to safety.

"What do you mean?" Amy asked as she peeled wet hair off of her face.

Ellie sighed and plopped down on a sofa. "Everywhere I go, disaster follows." She sighed again, defeatedly and lowered her head to her knees.

Amy sat down beside her best friend. "Eleanor Rose!" she said scornfully. Ellie looked up. "You aren't bad luck!"

"What about last fall when we went camping? The bear?!" her face was pale. She was starting to get scared.

"Coincidence." Amy spat.

"And the trip to the mountains and it snowed?" Ellie asked.

"Shit happens." Amy replied, trying to make her friend feel better.

"Does that shit happen in April?" Ellie asked, the edge in her voice getting heavier as the wind howled louder. "Where's Marc? He said he was coming down as soon as he lowered all the sails and stuff."

Amy shrugged. "I dunno. I'm starting to get worried."

Ellie bit her lower lip. "I'm not about to go down with this ship. If it's going to sink, I wanna be topside so I don't die in a watery grave. Drowning is not high on my list of ways to die! what do you say, Aim? If we're gonna die I say we do it on our feet, facing it."

Amy smiled. She loved this side of Ellie. "Right with you. You know, I wish you'd marry my brother so we'd be real sisters."

"Ewww. Puke." Ellie replied as she stood up. "He's... Marcus.. and he's gross." She made a face and the two girls laighed nervously as they headed for the door. As they reached fro the handle though, it was ripped open, and off, by the wind. They screamed. Looking at each other determinedly, they stepped back out into the rain and wind.

* * *

The sensation of having nothing under his feet made Cutler Becket want to throw up. This was far worse than any sea sickness he had ever experienced. Just when he thought he couldn't handle any more, it stopped. The wind, the noise everything. Then, to his horror, he realized he was falling. Falling for a few minutes was nothing compared to the pain he suddenly felt as he hit the surface of the sea. His smack down sent a sharp pain into every limb. Luckily he had landed on his back, otherwise he'd have broken his nose for sure. Numb for a moment, he forgot to swim and started to sink. Panic set in and he flailed about, swallowing a fair amount of seawater in the process. He felt his lungs constrict from the salt and he gasped for breath. 'so this is how I'll die?' he thought. From my own stupidity. I should have went swimming more.'

* * *

Ellie was holding on to the railing of the yacht when something caught her eye. The form of a person falling out of the air. Was she seeing things? The wind had died down a bit and Marcus had gotten the boat back under control. "Should be back on course in a sec." he said from the wheelhouse. Ellie squinted in the direction of the falling thing. Amy walked over. She squinted in the general direction Ellie was.

"Whatch lookin for?" she asked.

Ellie shook her head. "I think I'm hallucinating. I though I saw a person fall out of the hurricane."

Amy let our an involuntary laugh. "Wow, that'd be something, wouldn't it?"

"Something." Ellie replied as she focused her attention in the direction of the thing she saw. "There, look!" she yelled, causing Amy to jump a little.

Amy followed Ellie's finger to the now flailing image in the water. "Holy shit!" she exclaimed. "There really is a person out there. Hey, Marc. Man overboard!"

* * *

"Hey Marc, Man overboard!" came a shout from somewhere in the blackness beyond Beckett. The sunlight was returning and he could see this shining white vessel close by and he wondered what kind of ship it was. He calmed down and treaded water until it drew close enough. His chest hurt form the salt in his lungs and he was coughing.

When a hand reached out for his, he took it, not even realizing it was a slender feminine hand. He had lost his coat in the fall and his flailing had caused his boots to drop off into the deep. So there he was, in just his pants and shirt. He lay face down on the deck of this.... what the hell was this?" This was not a wooden floor. He raised up on his elbows, slowly as to not make himself sick. "Where am I?" he asked slowly, again, the seawater was making his stomach do funny things and it hurt to breathe.

* * *

When Ellie's hand took hold of the guy she was surprised to see him wearing a costume of sorts. He lay very still on the deck, then moved slowly to his elbows. "Where am I?" he asked.

"Somewhere east of Jamaica and west of Haiti." Ellie said. "I'm not really sure, the hurricane shifted our course." She reached for him and asked "Are you OK?"

A feminine hand touched Beckett's shoulder. 'A woman?' he thought. This does not bode well. When she answered him he was taken aback. She knew how to navigate. Interesting. "What is today?" he asked.

Ellie looked to Amy and now Marc, who was just coming up to see. "It's July 24th. " she said with uncertainty. "What day did you think it was?"

Beckett, upon hearing her question chuckled. "My dear, you would ever believe me if I told you. If you would humour me so, could you also tell me what year it is?" He rolled himself so that he was sitting now, and he looked up at his rescuers. 'my god, they're children'. he thought.

Ellie snickered. He was English. That was apparent by the accent and manner of speech. Ellie, thankfully had been raised all over the world so she was familiar with a sorts of etiquette and knew how he might expect her to act. "Uhm, well." she said with a small smile, lowering herself to her knees before him. "It's 2007. George W Bush is President of the United States of America, Tony Blair is the Prime Minster of England and, in case you were wondering, my name is Ellie, that's Amy and that's Marc. You're on the exploration and we're headed to Port-Au-Prince for supplies and to figure out how the hell we ended up in a hurricane on a clear day!" She nodded with her finality and looked to him.

Becket heard nothing else after the year and the names of the world leaders. His eyes clouded and he realized that things indeed had changed, just as Turner had said they would. "Oh, god!" he groaned and put his head in his hands. "Such a long time."

"Excuse me?" Ellie asked. She was confused. First she still swore she saw him fall out of the hurricane and then he was dressed like a colonial kind of person and he was English and he didn't know what the year was. "Do you need to lie down?" she asked him softly.

Upon the girl's next question, Beckett simply nodded. There was another set of female hands on him now as both this Ellie and her friend, or kinswoman, Amy helped him to below decks to the most amazing sight he'd ever seen on a ship. He lost his breath when he saw a real bed and a table and cupboards and all other unimaginable things. As he was helped onto one of the beds, he mumbled a "thank you to them. They left him there, alone in this new world to sleep. But he could not sleep.

A sudden burst of energy came over him and he stood up and walked over to a small table and picked up a book. The cover of it read "Time" The pictures were so lifelike and full of colour that he gasped as he looked at it. Flipping through the pages her skimmed articles about historical reconstruction, politics, and of all things, childbirth. Those pictures made him quickly toss the shiny book back down on the table where it had been. He walked over to the small counter that still had a bit of food on it. Most had been tossed onto the floor during what the girls called a hurricane. He knew what it had been and was loathe to explain it to them at that moment. He examined the things in side the cupboards. Plates and cups made of some interesting material. They were neither glass nor porcelain. They were light and unbreakable, as he found out when he accidentally dropped a cup on the floor and it did not shatter."Interesting." he mumbled.

Next thing he came to , he was unsure if he wanted to explore. The small white box hummed and was warm on one side. There was a handle on the front, suggestiong that the whole front panel was a door. When he opened it, however, he discovered things inside were cold. There was a container of what eh thought was milk, there was a bottle of champagne, some cheese, jam, butter, eggs and a ton of other stuff that he'd never have been able to have on the Endeavour. He shut the door on the contraption. "What kind of devilry is this?" he whispered. He went on to explore every door he could find below decks. After a few moments of not finding anything else very interesting, he went back to the bed. It was soft. Softer than any bed he'd ever splet in. The pillow alone felt like a cloud. The quilt on the end of the bed was so fluffy it looked as though it was stuffed with cotton. He lay his head on the pillow. He let out a sound of pleasure as the white fluffiness surrounded his face. Withing seconds of relaxing into the mattress, Cutler Beckett was sound asleep.

* * *

A/N: How do you like it so far? Has anything like this ever been done... I'd really like to know so I don't do what the others have done.. I want this to be as original as I can make it.

Please send reviews, thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

Please forgive me if there are any spelling errors in the last two chapters.. I used the spell check.. twice! LOL. so obviously the words aren't spelled wrong, they simply aren't correct in the sentence!

* * *

Ellie and Amy were topside. "He's resting." Amy said to her brother as the girls started to help clean things up. "Boy that was one hell of a storm." she commented.

"He certainly is an odd one though, don't you think?" asked Ellie. "I mean, he asked what year it was, like he was time travelling or something."

"Cool." Marc blurted out. When the girls looked at him he shrugged. "All I'm saying.." he said with a smile. "It would be cool."

Ellie rolled her eyes. "I for one mean to find out what exactly happened to him." She had that look of determination on her face which wasn't necessarily a good sigh for the future.

"Ellie, don't you think we should let him rest a while, I mean, he almost drowned." Amy slid the Igloo cooler back into place and secured it with a bungee cord. "God, I can't wait to get back home and leave all this perfect ocean behind and resume normal activities."

Marc and Ellie gave each other a rolled eye glance. Amy was starting to whine and they'd probably have to drop her off at the nearest port so she could fly home. "Oh, shut up, you baby." Marcus spat at his little sister. "An hour ago you were fine."

Amy whipped around and glared at her brother. "An hour ago I hadn't just survived a hurricane and rescued a guy who literally fell out of the sky."

"Aw, calm down Aim." Ellie said as she walked over to her friend. "We're all OK and we're heroes too. Why are you so upset?"

"I want to go home." she said childishly, crossing her arms over her chest and turning her back on the stunned pair. Ellie looked to Marc who could only shrug.

"Alrighty, Miss Daniels." Marc said to his baby sister. "Next post we stop at, you're off." Amy turned to gape at her brother in shock. "What?" he asked. "You want to go home, so I'm letting you. I'll drop you off in Haiti and you can catch a flight back to San Juan. Sound good?" Amy scoffed and walked around to the front of the yacht where she didn't have to look at anyone. She was fuming.

"They don't even want me here." she groused. If she had really known that the two were on the other end of the boat trying to figure out a way to get her to stay, she might have changed her tune.

* * *

The sun was starting to set. Marc had gone to what he called the "captain's quarters" which was a cot in the wheelhouse where he slept. Amy and Ellie slept below deck. Amy taking the actual room while Ellie took the fold down table-bed... which was where their guest was currently sleeping. "I'll sleep on the sofa." she whispered as she and Amy tip-toed down the stairs. Amy nodded and went to her room and shut the door softly. The light went out a few minutes later, leaving Ellie and the stranger alone in the main room. With a sigh, Ellie slid off her sandals and went to the bathroom, tiny as it was, to change clothes. She emerged in a camisole top and a pair of boy shorts. Stretching out on the tan sofa she glanced to their newest companion. He was sleeping so soundly, his face almost completely concealed by the pillow. His hair was only a little shorter than her own but his was curlier. He wasn't very tall either. Maybe three or four inches taller than Ellie was herself. "Humph." she said breathily as she laid back on the arm of the sofa and closed her eyes.

It was the middle of the night when beckett woke up, unaware of his surroundings he jumped up with such a start that eh fell out of bed. The thud must have awoken the female sleeping across the room because she asked groggily "You OK?"

"Forgot where I was for a moment." he replied. His heart was racing. He remembered what had happened and sighed. He was safe aboard this tiny vessel. "Where is the head?" he asked shyly.

Ellie, not even bothering to lift her head pointed to the tiny door positioned between her sofa and the door to topside. "There." she mumbled, not even opening her eyes.

Beckett mumbled his thanks and walked across the room to use the facilities, but decided that it might be easier to simply go topside and let the sea have it. Silently he went to the deck and did what he had to do. He saw the captain of the ship sleeping near the wheel. He shrugged, thinking it odd, but then again, maybe it was still inadvisable for men and women to share quarters. But then, he reasoned to himself, why was the pretty brunette sleeping so near to him? Then it occurred to him. He was in HER bed. The thought caused his face to flush.

He shook off the thought and gazed out at the clear night sky. He wondered what had happened to the world in the two hundred some odd years since he'd last inhabited it. He sighed heavily and seated himself on the odd flooring of the ships deck. The railing was a metal-like material and though it felt smooth and light, he wondered how heavy it was. He sighed again heavily and stared out at the black sea. "I wonder what Turner is doing in this day and Age. Seeing as though he still looks human he must be doing his job well enough."

When their guest didn't return from the bathroom after a few minutes, Ellie sat up. What if he was dead in there? Her eyes focused on the half light of the room. The door to the upper deck was open. So he had decided to go off the side of the ship, how nice of him, she mused. She got off the sofa and stretched. It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world but at least it wasn't the floor. She trotted sleepily up the stairs to make sure he was alright. Seeing him as she came out into the night air she was struck with how childlike he looked. He was sitting on the deck with his legs between the railing. His feet hanging off the side of the yacht. His arms were resting on the top of the rail and he was watching the stars. Upon hearing him speak she took the initiative and asked softly "Who's Turner?"

Beckett turned sharply at the sound of the voice behind him. Forgetting his legs were intiwned in the railing he banged his knees and fought off the urge to swear. She must have seen his injury because she winced. "Sorry." she said impishly. She walked over to him. "I mean if you don't want to tell me that's OK."

Feeling that it was now or never, he decided to divulge his secrets to this tiny female. If she thought he was crazy so be it. "No, it's OK." he said, using her terminology. "It's a long story." he said warningly. "And you may not believe me."

"Try me." she said with a small smile on her face. She seated herself next to him, sticking her legs through the railing same as he. "You'd be surprised on what I'd believe. By the way, what's you name?"

Beckett smiled. It was a genuine smile. She was so kind to him and she didn't know him at all. So trusting. He might not have even given her a second thought back then. But now, having not had any human contact for so long, he relished it. "My name." he said with a sigh. How many people out in the world had his name, he wondered. It wasn't common when he'd been born so the chances of any person having the first name Cutler were astronomically low. "Cutler." he said quietly. "Are you sure you want to hear all this?" She nodded. Which one was she again? He wracked his brain to recall what she had said. Was she Ellie or Amy? She was the one who had spoken so she had to be Ellie. "Ellie?" he asked.

His name, it was so outdated, but she didn't say anything about it. It was probably a sore subject to him. "Yeah?" Ellie asked in return to his asking. Seeing a wash of relief on his face she gathered he was actually asking if she was Ellie. She smiled. "It's Eleanor actually, but I go by Ellie. Its easier for people to remember."

Beckett smiled. "Eleanor. Such a lovely name." He sighed and smiled. "It suits you." She made a face. He laughed. "You dislike your name?"

Ellie laughed too. "Who doesn't dislike their own name? Tell me you never wanted to change your name when you were a kid." She crossed her amrs. "I always liked other names. I like Amber but my mother named me after my long dead great grandmother. It's a family name, she told me once. I should be proud of my heritage." She snickered. "I don't know."

Beckett smiled again. "I guess." he said. "I never really gave my name much thought. It was my name and that was it. My father gave me the name." He turned to face the small woman next to him. "Eleanor means Light, did you know that?"

Ellie nodded. "Yeah, I guess I should be thankful I'm not a Helen or something even more outdated." she crinkled her nose. "But I have one of those decidedly English names. Eleanor Rose Luddington. Makes me sound like a Duchess or something." She laughed.

Beckett, upon hearing her surname nodded. "There used to Luddingtons in England who were of a high social standing. About two hundred years ago. Did you know that there's a Luddington House in Lincolnshire?" Ellie shook her head.

"I've never been to England." she said. "I've lived in Puerto Rico all my life. Born and bred. I've visited family in the States and traveled all around so I don't have the Spanish accent. Funny how I never remember going to England even once." She sighed. "So, are you going to tell me this incredibly long tale of yours or not?"

Beckett tried to smile at the mention of his story. "It is long," he said, "and quite incredible. Please let me finish telling it before you make up your mind as to whether you think I'm insane or not." His eyes pleaded with her.

Ellie nodded. "You don't sound insane to me, so tell away." She motioned with her hand for him to proceed.

Cutler Beckett took in a deep breath and started his story from the beginning of the end. "I came to the Caribbean to do my job." he started. "I did as I was commanded, by my superiors." he paused. "Two hundred and thirty-one years ago." Ellie raised an eyebrow at him but she kept silent like she said she would. With a sigh, he continued. "You see, having had a run in with a certain man, a pirate, and I inadvertently brought about my own destruction." He proceeded to tell of his encounter with Elizabeth Swann, Jack Sparrow and William Turner. Ellie still said nothing. He told Ellie of his time spent in the Locker and his 'release' into the present day. "So you see, for being so hard hearted and arrogant, I doomed myself to this." He motioned to his surroundings. "I should have died two hundred years ago, but here I am and I have no idea what to do or where to go." His eyes pleaded to Ellie to understand, to believe him. But she was unreadable.

Ellie, having hear his tale chewed her lower lip. Her shorts were riding up and her legs were starting to get chilled in the night air. "Well." she said finally. "That's something." What else was she supposed to say? "And you swear this is all true?"

Beckett nodded, sweat beading on his upper lip. "I promise you, Eleanor, it's all true." He wiped the sweat and looked down into the blue black water. "Do you believe me?" he ventured.

Ellie sucked in a breath. "It's hard to." she started. "But then again, I did see you fall out of the sky from seemingly nowhere. Your story has a tinge of credibility. Something in the way you tell it makes it believable. But you shouldn't just tell anyone. I mean, Me, Amy and Marc, maybe. Marcus will think this is the coolest thing to ever happen to him. He believes in it all. Aliens from space, time travel, magic, all of it." She laughed lightly.

Beckett laughed too. "Aliens?" he asked.

Ellie nodded. "Yeah, little men in flying ships that come from other planets. Marc is convinced they exists. I keep telling him that they do, but only in his head." Beckett laughed again. "But he's kinda a historian of the Caribbean. He might know a little more about all this and understand what you're talking about better than me. Definitely better than Amy."

Beckett nodded. "You live in Puerto Rico?" he asked. "Where about?" He was curious.

"San Juan." Ellie replied. My folks and Marc and Amy's folk live near to each other on the coast. My folks moved there just after they got married, My dad is an international translator." She smiled as if to belie her mock interest in the subject. "Interesting huh?" she asked sarcastically.

Beckett grinned. This girl was a bit of a spit fire. He liked that, she was spunky. "Yeah." he replied with equal sarcasm. "Have you ever been to Port Royal?"

"Jamaica?" Ellie asked. Beckett nodded. "Once or twice. Marc does dives on the parts of the city that was submerged in the earthquake. So he tells us a lot abou the old city."

"Earthquake?" He asked. There had been no earthquake in Port Royal as far as he knew.

Ellie shook her head. "Hold on." she said. She held up her hands and did the math on her fingers. She mumbled under her breath as she calculated it. "Two thousand and seven minus two hundred and thirty equals." she scratched her fingers on the deck of the yacht. "Seventeen hundred seventy seven." She looked at Beckett. "Right?" He nodded. "Well then." she said with an affirming nod. "It seems as though you missed it." She grinned. Port Royal had an earthquake in sixteen ninety two. A lot of buildings fell into Kingston Harbor." She could see the confused look on his face. "Look, Marc was taking us to his dive site for some 'rest'. We were going to dive the old north quarter." She put her hand on his shoulder. "You can come with us if you want."

She touched him. His breath caught in his lungs and he struggled for a second to breathe. "But." he tried to say. Words wouldn't come. After fighting himself for a moment he managed to ask. "How much is gone?"

Ellie looked into his puzzled expression and felt bad for him. Port Royal had been his home and that part of the peninsula was under water, he probably never even knew. "Well." she started, then with a deep breathe she decided to just tell him. "Forts James and Carlisle are gone, surely you have heard of them?" He nodded and put his head down. Ellie bit her lip and suppressed the urge to hug him. Fort Charles was saved but only just. The remainder of the little hook on the southern tip is gone. Lets see." she tried to recall all what Marc had told her. Damn, if she'd only paid more attention to his ramblings. Double damn. "Uh, As far as the old city, I'd say all of Thames Street." She paused, mainly because he had let out a moan of despair. "You lived close to that area I take it?" she asked.

"Yes. Close to the Governor's Mansion. Is it all still there or has it gone?"

Ellie nodded "After the earthquake, there was tidal wave that took out more of the city."

"Oh God." he breathed. Turner had told him things would be different, but he hadn't expected this. This was more of a blow to his psyche than anything else that had happened to him in the last twenty four hours. "Its all gone then. The Port Royal I knew?"

Ellie couldn't hold it in anymore. "I'm so sorry." she said. Her eyes glazed at the strained expression on his face. "Are you OK?" She tightened her grip on his shoulder, letting him know she was sympathetic to him.

Beckett smiled and put his hand on hers. Her skin was soft, as it should be, he thought. A woman's hand. "I'll survive." he said little emotion. Her hand tightened on his shoulder and her eyes were sad. He smiled at her. "I'm OK." he said. "I think I'd like to speak with your captain." he said. "This Marcus."

This made Ellie laugh. "Marcus? Captain?" She laughed again. "Oh please don't ever call him that to his face. We'll never hear the end of it. And besides, this is my yacht." She patted the deck and smiled. "The Canta Linda."

"Canta Linda?" he asked. Beckett knew some spanish but his tenure in the Locker had forced it to the back of his mind.

"Beautiful Song." Ellie translated. She was a gift from one of my father's business associates. He thought I was a cute little girl. This was my Sweet Sixteen birthday present. Can you believe it? Some businessman from Ponce decided that I deserved a small yacht for my birthday! How lucky can a girl get?" Ellie laughed. "It was rediculous and my father tried to give it back but Senor Ruiz refused saying it was a gift and he'd be insulted if it wasn't accepted."

Beckett had to laugh along with her. "I can't imagine getting a gift like that at such a young age. She seems to be holding well. Was she new when you got her?" He examined the ship. He didn't really care about it, he was simply needling Ellie to discover her age.

"Well," Ellie said as she looked about the boat. "I don't know if she was new when I got her but I've had her for nine years. So I'd say she is holding up pretty well." She patted the deck of the boat tenderly. "She keeps me from being suffocated by the city."

Beckett smiled at the girl. What was it about her that made him utterly defenseless? He would tell he anything she asked. He could only hope she would not inquire to the sort of man he had been. But his hopes were dashed when she next opened her mouth.

"What were you like back then? I mean, what did you do for a living, exactly?" Her almond shaped grey eyes bore deep into his own. He shifted uneasily.

"That's a subject I'd rather you not have me delve into but since you asked, I feel as though I cannot say no." He smiled uneasily at her. "It's rather embarassing considering the man I am now."

"Go on." Ellie said. She pulled her legs out from under the railing and turned to face him. "I promise I won't think badly of you for anything you say." She had heard his name once in Marc's ramblings but couldn't remember what he'd said about Cutler Beckett. She bit her lip in the anticipation.

Cutler Beckett cast his eyes downward. "I have had a long time to atone for my crimes and thought they're inexcusable, I still feel the sting of them." He looked up at Ellie. Her expression was so sweet. How could he tell this angel of a woman that he was responsible for the mass murder of over two thousand residents of Port Royal? He lowered his head and raised his knees up. Resting his chin on his knees, he mumbled out a question. "Have you ever heard of the pirate executions in Port Royal?"

"Vaguely." Ellie replied truthfully. "I tended to skim the sections of history that seem kinda far fetched. Why?" The realization that he might have had something to do with the executions made her skin crawl. This man was barely bigger than she was and yet it seemed to Ellie that he was confessing to a two hundred year old crime.

Beckett, still looking down sighed heavily. The weight of the things he had done suddenly crashing down on him. "I signed the order that send all those people to the gallows. I truly believed that they were all guilty of piracy and that they deserved the fate that I brought them." As he dwelt on the facts it occured to him that among his victims, there had been children. Tears welled in his eyes. He sniffed hard and refused to raise his head to look at Ellie.

This revelation made Ellie sit back. She looked Beckett over with an indecisive eye. After a long silence between them she finally asked meekly, "Are you remorseful?"

Beckett's head jerked up and he turned to face the girl. He knew she'd see his tears but he didn't care. "Of course I am! If I knew then what I know now, I would have never set foot in Jamaica! I'd have stayed in Britain and lived out my life, dying at an old age." He hadn't realized that she had shouted at her. But when Ellie gasped and scooted back a ways from him he lowered his eyes again. "Sorry." he said. "I didn't mean to shout."

Ellie recovered from Beckett shouting at her. It had startled her but she wasn't afraid of him. "Its OK." she said. "You startled me is all." She let out a nervous laugh. "I hope we didn't wake Marcus. He can be mean when he gets woke up too soon." She made a face and cringed at the thought of Evil Marc coming to rip her head off. There was still this tiny piece of her inner mind that was telling her that his story was complete idiocy. He had to be making it up. There was no way he could really be a person who lived two hundred years ago. But the sincerity in his eyes and the emotion with which he told her his story made her believe him. He was either a really good actor or he was telling the truth.

"You aren't disgusted with me?" he asked. "You don't hate me?" He knew how vulnerable he was. All those years alone in the Locker had turned him soft. He blathered on like a, well, a woman. He didn't entirely like nor dislike this new side of himself. It had endeared him to a beautiful woman so it couldn't be all that bad.

"Of course not. It might have been the thing to do at the time. I'm a firm believer in fate." Ellie said with a conviction that made Beckett smile. "You were meant to follow this course, whether you knew it at the time or not." She smiled back at him. "Destiny." she said with a twinkle in her eye.

It was the mysterious, supernatural that made Ellie excited. She loved to hear all about the old Voodoo women and the spells they cast on wayward husbands and lovers who had scorned them. She loved all that stuff. The stories of Tia Dalma, the greatest priestess in all the Caribbean, was her favorite. She loved the tale of how she had brought a pirate captain back to life just so she could send him on a mission to the end of the earth to save someone she loved. Sure, she teased Marc about his stories, but that was only because he told them like he was a professor. There was no emotion in his stories. He told facts. Ellie dealt with emotion, the way things felt and how they effected a person.

Beckett had to laugh at her. "Destiny?" he asked incredulously. "A man makes his own destiny." he said flatly.

"Says you." Ellie retorted. "You sound like my dad when you talk like that." She stood up and offered him her hand. "Come on." she said.

Taking her hand and standing he realized that they were very close in height. "Where are we going?" he inquired.

Ellie grinned. "Back to bed. It's the middle of the night and Marc is going to wake everyone up at sunrise with the air horn, whether we want him to or not. He's just mean like that. So we'd better get some more sleep while we can. We'll talk more tomorrow, OK?"

Beckett nodded and followed Ellie back toward the cabin of the boat. "What's an air horn?" he asked as they ducked down into the room that was Ellie's. Ellie only laughed.

"You'll find out in the morning." she said cryptically as she flipped on a small light. She walked over to her bed and pointed to it. "Sleep." she ordered him.

"But that's your bed, isn't it?" he asked. She nodded. "I cannot take away a lady's bed." he replied, crossing his arms.

Ellie snorted a laugh. "Well then, I guess I'll be sleeping on the sofa and you'll be sleeping on the floor."

Beckett offered a solution. "How about I sleep on this sofa and you take your bed?" He tried to stare her down but found this difficult. She was intimidating in her own right.

"You're a guest." she said through gritted teeth. "You take the bed." She took in a deep breath and before he could retort ant further she said "No more arguments, go to bed. If you aren't in the bed in three seconds you'll have to navigate the room in the dark because I'm turning the lights off."

With a defeated sigh he sat down on the bed. "Are you pleased?" he asked her snidely. Ellie laughed and nodded.

"Good night." she said cheerfully to him, choosing to ignore his insulting tone. She reached up to the button on the wall and switched the lights off before walking int he dark the three or four steps to the sofa where she stretched back out. Beckett didn't make another noise for the rest of the night, though he lay awake for a long while. Ellie had fallen asleep not too long after the lights had gone out and the sound of her breathing softly from across the room caused Cutler Beckett to think many inappropriate thought about her. He soon fell asleep but his dreams were haunted by the faces of children as they walked toward the gallows and the sobs of women. Ellie's face would creep in every now and again, usually as the face of one of his victims. When this happened, unbeknownst to him, he whimpered in his sleep.

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A/N: Please send me any reviews you have. Thoughts, advice, anything.


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